Her Cellophane Heart
by LPO'G
Summary: It was just an average day for Santana. Just an average day in glee listening to Berry sing and making fun of Mr. Schue's newest vest. An average day. And yet for someone else this day was special. This day was important. This was the day where everything would change. Where careful plans would be put into action. And unfortunately for Santana all these plans centered around her
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Violence and Rape**

**Title: Based on song title Cellophane Hearts by Callahan  
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**Thank you to the amazing people who helped me edit this. My story would be filled with fragments, run-ons and missing commas if it wasnt for you  
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**I do not own glee.**

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Santana Lopez was finally happy. She was in the best show choir anyone could ever imagine, she was dating the hottest girl in school, and she was finally able to accept herself just the way she was. Nothing could be better. Even as she sat in the choir room listening to Rachel Berry explain the importance of singing while gargling salt water to improve ones vocal chords Santana's smile didn't waiver. In fact, being surrounded by so much familiarity made her smile even bigger.

She silently reached for Brittany's hand squeezing it and looking up at her love. She mouthed the words _thank you_ and smiled up at the blonde. A questioning look spread across Brittany's face, so Santana leaned in to whisper in her ear, "you've made me the happiest person in the world". She cupped Brittany's cheek and gently guided the blonde's head to be facing her completely, then she leaned in further for a kiss. When they broke apart Brittany's face had broken into a smile bigger than Santana's as she put her arm around the smaller girl drawing her in. Santana rested her head on Brittany's shoulder and closed her eyes waiting for Mr. Schue to arrive.

It was a special Saturday practice. Mr. Schue had decided that since Nationals was coming up so quickly they needed a day to get back to the music and forget all the recent distractions. She was sitting next to Brittany at the back of the choir room watching all her friends around her. She watched as Mercedes giggled at one of Sam's God-awful impressions, as Kurt and Rachel fought over the best Barbra song, as Puck tried to explain something to a very confused Finn (Santana hoped that was about sex. Finn wasn't very good and could use all the help from Puck he could get). Santana smiled at the familiarity and comfort she felt in this room.

She was playing with Brittany's fingers as Mr. Schue walked in the room. As usual, before saying anything to the group he went to write some word of importance on the board. He had only just finished writing the letter 's' when a gunshot sounded through the school.

Mr. Schue raced to the door hoping to close it in time to put some sort of barrier between the club and whoever was shooting. However, just as he reached the door a second pair of hands grabbed it from the other side. Catching the teacher off guard, the person managed to force the door open. Before anyone could really register what was going on, the person on the other side of the door pushed through the door and pistol-whipped the stunned teacher across the face. The teacher fell at the feet of the new arrival, a tall man dressed completely in black including a black mask that hid his entire face. The man held two guns, both pistols, one of which he had just used on Mr. Schue. At this point the club managed to shake themselves out of their stupor. Finn and Puck jumped up from their chairs and raced forward. However, before they made it more than five feet, six new men, who all looked the same as the first, entered the room. each one was carrying massive weaponry all pointing at the club. The two boys stopped in their tracks staring at the guns directly in front of them

The first man who had entered the room spoke. "Turn around and go back to your seats or we shoot."

Neither Puck nor Finn moved. not wanting to leave their teacher lying on the floor bleeding. The man who spoke, who seemed to be the leader, did not seem phased by this. He simply turned to his associate on his right who gave a small nod and pointed his gun at the group.

BANG!

Finn and Puck both flinched expecting to feel excruciating pain as the bullet tore through them. However, it never did. Instead, Santana screamed. Clutching onto Brittany for support, she screamed again and looked down at her left lower leg that was now covered in blood. Tears came to her eyes as the pain radiated through her body

"SANTANA!" Brittany screamed as she saw her love in so much pain. Turning to the men she screamed, "Why'd you shoot her. She didn't do anything. None of us did anything!"

The leader ignored Brittany's outburst. He was still facing Finn and Puck. "Now, go sit down" he said.

Both boys hurried to return to their seats, not wishing to cause themselves or their friends any more pain. But Brittany wasn't ready to retreat just yet. "Leave us alone!" she screamed while getting to her feet. "You shot her! You fucking shot her! She didn't do anything, and you just shot her! Leave!" The club was shocked that the usually innocently happy blond was now so angry that she was willing to stand up to, and curse at, seven armed men. They knew she and Santana loved each other but all this was going to do was get Brittany shot as well. A hand reached up and grabbed Brittany's arm. Brittany turned around and saw Santana looking up at her.

"Britt-Britt you gotta sit down. If you don't they're going to hurt you. I'm fine, just sit down with me." Santana attempted to smile to comfort her love but it came out more as a grimace of pain than anything. Brittany didn't look convinced, and Santana became desperate. Fresh tears came to her eyes as she pleaded, "Please Britt, just hold me. I don't need you to stand up for me, I love you for doing it, but I just want to be with you. Please!"

Brittany sat down and put her arms around Santana attempting to protect her from any more harm. Santana rested her head on Brittany's chest and whispered, "I love you."


	2. Chapter 2

At the front of the room, the armed men were no longer amused. It had been funny watching the ditzy blonde scream but this blatant display of love was not allowed. The leader made a second slight nod to the man who had shot Santana, and he walked forward, two guns pointing at the group. He walked directly up to where Santana and Brittany sat cuddling. Brittany could feel Santana tense up as her attacker reached them. She tried to whisper comforting things into Santana's ear, but her voice was shaking so badly that it was no use. She gave up speaking, and she settled for clutching Santana more tightly to her body hoping that she would be able to protect the smaller girl from any more harm.

Unfortunately, this did not work. The man grabbed Santana by her ponytail and yanked her out of Brittany's embrace. As Santana screamed in pain, the tension in the choir room exploded. Every member of the club was screaming at the man to let go of Santana. Brittany was desperately trying to grab Santana's hand and pull her back. Sam was attempting to get up and come to Santana's aid however a terrified Mercedes held him in his place. Quinn was fighting against Puck who held her back as she attempted to come save one of her oldest and best friends. Through all the commotion, the man didn't change anything he was doing. He simply dragged Santana to the middle of the room where he let her fall. Some of the glee clubbers attempted to advance; however, he held up his guns warning them not to come a step closer. They stopped in their tracks and watched as Santana, who lay gasping for air on the ground, was picked up again, this time by the neck, and brought to his eye level. He was so tall that her feet weren't touching the ground as she writhed, attempting to escape her captor's grasp. He set his guns down and used his now free hand to lift his mask just enough to uncover his mouth and spat directly in her face. "Fucking dyke," he said. Then he unceremoniously threw Santana across the room so her limp form landed at the leader's feet. He then walked back to the front of the room. But before getting back in line, he delivered a kick to Santana's chest and laughed when he heard her weakly moan from her spot on the floor.

"Hello Glee Club" It was difficult to tell who was talking due to the masks covering each man's face, but after a second it became apparent that it had been the leader. He put one of his pistols in a holster and proceeded to pull his mask off his face. He was smiling "Whew, its hot under that thing. My name is Alexander. And my associates and I have heard all about you people. We heard that you were a bunch of fags and dykes."

"Shu…" Blaine attempted to protest against the derogatory terms however he was cut off as Alexander continued to speak.

"We assumed that that was just rumours. We decided to give you the benefit of the doubt being the kind souls that we are…"

Quinn let out a wry laugh "kind. Yeah right. You fucki…"

She was also cut off as he continued "HOWEVER, we found this impossible to do when a certain campaign ad caught our attention a while ago. I'm sure you must all know the one I'm talking about. It starred a certain head cheerleader who just so happens to be a lesbian. A stupid fucking abomination!" the last phrase he screamed at Santana.

Mr. Schue, who everyone had seemed to forget in the commotion, was beginning to wake up at this point. He had been left lying behind the men so none of them noticed as he got to his feet. When he heard what the man said about Santana he raced forward and tackled Alexander to the ground. Mr. Schue began punching every inch of the man that he could reach. Alexander just laughed on the ground not even attempting to fight back.

BANG

Another gunshot sounded, and, as if cued by the sound, Alexander easily threw Mr. Schue off.. Getting to his feet and picking up his guns, he pointed them both at Mr. Schue. "Go sit down with your students," Alexander forcefully told Mr. Schue. Mr. Schue hurried to his feet terrified to find out who had been shot because of his actions. It seemed as if everyone in the club was doing the exact same thing, but none of them had been shot. They were all extremely confused. However, this was short-lived because as soon as Alexander stepped back into line with his friends the entire club could see exactly who had been hit. Santana's leg was bleeding more profusely. It seemed that she had been shot this time in her knee. She was unconscious, so there had been no scream to alert them to her new, more serious condition. The entire club took in a collective gasp as they saw their friend becoming paler and paler as the blood left her body.

"Lovely!" Alexander pulled all the eyes away from Santana and back to him when he spoke. Each club member was too afraid to move or speak for fear what would happen the next time they did so. "Thank you, Schuester for showing us exactly what happens if any of you moves, speaks, or does anything that bothers either myself of one of my men. You see, we spent the last few weeks thinking of the best way to really punish you all for what you are doing. I mean, by letting a dyke be part of your group, you're all abominations by connection. And we decided that the worst thing we could do was let you watch as we torture her. Right in front of you." As the words left his lips his smile widened.

Brittany let out a sob and immediately clapped her hands over her mouth afraid that that would do more harm to Santana. However the damage had already been done. One of the men took out a knife and kneeled down next to Santana. He cut through her Cheerio's uniform. He plunged the knife deep into the right side of the already tortured girl's chest. He then pulled the knife out and sliced the girl's top in two. He pulled the ripped top from her body leaving her lying on the floor completely exposed, with her now bisected bra hanging off of her.

For once Puck didn't make any comment when he saw a woman's bare chest. He had tears running down his face as he watched the red pool around Santana's body grow larger at an alarming pace.

"You see, if we shoot her each time, this will go too fast. Plus, that would be depressingly boring. So instead, we decided to find a new, inventive way to have some fun each time. It's so exciting!" Walking up to Tina and Mike, he bent over so his face was directly at eye level, "Aren't you excited?" They both nodded, tears running down Tina's face as she did so. "You're happy to see your friend in pain? Well aren't you just evil!" He laughed, turned away from the Asian couple, and moved back to the front of the room. "Anyway, we know it's" he pointed at Santana "Not the only abomination in this group. I mean, you guys are overflowing with sins. She's just the most open about it. I mean really, allowing yourself to be shown on live television as a dyke, does it really get any worse than that?" Alexander was screaming by the end of his statement, the smile he had previously worn was now completely gone from his face.

Alexander turned away from the group and walked back toward Santana. He gave her a hard kick in the chest that caused the girl to cry out, weakly, in pain. When he turned back towards the glee club his smile was back in place. "Now we are not evil men, we simply want to help. We want to make it clear that being that proud of being an abomination is unacceptable. Sins like that must be hidden deep down. Or fixed." As Alexander said the last two words his smile grew even larger. He looked positively mad. "That's what we're here to do. We've come to fix your problem. I know, I know we're really too kind, but hey, we want to help. Now, there's only one way to fix a dyke." As he said this he advanced on Santana unbuckling his belt. "Oh honey," he said looking down at the girl, who by this point had fallen unconscious, "this just won't do. You have to be awake for the _conversion therapy_ to work. Come on, open your pretty eyes." Nothing happened. "I think we're going to have to fix her up a bit if we want to continue. Oh, Britt-an-y!" he called the blond, an evil smile widening across his face. "Would you mind cleaning and bandaging the dyke's wounds so we can continue?"

Brittany looked away silent tears running down her face. She couldn't do it. She knew what he was going to do to Santana, and she couldn't let it happen, she couldn't help. She looked up and her eyes locked with Quinn's. Quinn was also crying; but through her tears, she was willing Brittany to do as he commanded. Her look said _if you don't, they will kill her_. Brittany knew it was true, so she took a deep breath, pushed herself to her feet, and walked to the front of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

As Brittany reached the front of the room, one of the men pushed rags and bandages into her hands. She knelt down and slowly, carefully began cleaning the first gunshot. After everything was bandaged up she looked at Santana's face. She knew she wouldn't be allowed to kiss her so she simply moved the hair that was covering Santana's closed eye and tucked it behind her ear. She then stood up and attempted to return to her seat, "Oh Brittany, wait just one more second." She turned around when Alexander spoke. "She's still not awake. We need you to do one last thing." He drew a massive needle out of his pocket. Brittany took a sharp intake of breath when she saw it. "Please be sure to stick this close to her heart. Oh. but not directly in it. That would kill her and we wouldn't want that, would we?" The sarcasm in his voice nauseated Brittany but she took the needle all the same.

"Wh…what is it?" She quietly asked staring down at the needle in her hand.

"Adrenaline. Think of it as a jumpstart. At the moment. she's shut down, well that will shock her into starting up. This wouldn't be much fun with her like that." Brittany turned away from Alexander as the tears began to fall from her eyes more quickly. "Oh, and Brittany?" She turned back. "Please remove the rest of her clothing as well. We don't know how much longer she's going to last, I don't want to waste my valuable time doing something as menial as that." He laughed once more when he saw the look of horror that graced Brittany's beautiful face. He gave her a look that told her to get on with it, so she slowly lowered herself so she was next to Santana once more. First, she removed the bra that was already falling off the unconscious girl. She carefully moved Santana's tanned arms through the holes so as not to hurt her. Next, she moved to Santana's shoes. She carefully untied them both and took them off, placing them neatly next her, the socks rolled up into neat balls inside each. She sighed as her hands moved up Santana's form to her skirt. She fumbled with the zipper for a second, her hands shaking badly as the tears began to pour out of her eyes. Finally. she removed Santana's spandex and thong, folding them and neatly placing them with the skirt on top of Santana's shoes.

Now her entire body was shaking. She reached her hand out and clumsily moved it over Santana's chest attempting to find her love's heartbeat. She sobbed as she raised the needle so it was poised slightly above the tanned form. She whispered, "I'm so sorry Sanny. I love you." And with another heart breaking sob she stuck the needle in Santana's chest and injected the contents.


	4. Chapter 4

Santana gasped as something penetrated her skin. She felt her body begin to spasm as the adrenaline entered her bloodstream. She saw Brittany kneeling beside her. She tried to reach out and touch her love, but before she could, one of the masked men pulled the crying blonde away. She heard a voice from somewhere. She couldn't identify who it was, but she was instantly afraid. "Thank you so very much, Brittany. Now this will be much more fun. Oh. but Santana that flailing really is unnecessary. Here, my good friend, Jonathan, will help you with that." Santana attempted to look around the room and try to find who was being addressed. Her eyes fell on a man holding five ropes in his hands, she knew this must be Jonathan. Her body began to shake more violently as he advanced. He tied slipknots around each of her ankles wrists and neck then handed a rope to four of his fellows, keeping one for himself. This left one man holding two guns which were pointed directly at the club, and the unknown figure who was speaking directly above her. "There we go. Now, dear _Sanny,_" the unknown man used the nickname maliciously, "if you move you will immediately regret it." And he laughed.

Santana's eyes darted around the room so quickly that everything appeared blurred. She heard a zipper being undone and then felt the unknown man's mass lower on top of her. She heard ragged breathing in her ear as he began to move his hands all over her uncovered body. She felt him as he began to roughly kiss her neck and roughly twist her breasts. She tried to squirm away, move her head, do anything to get out of this monsters grasp, but as she started to turn she felt something close tightly around her throat. She opened her mouth to scream, to breath, to do anything, but found she couldn't. She tried to grab at whatever was constricting her throat, but her arms refused. It felt as if each of her limbs was being ripped apart. She thrashed, attempting to free herself, to fight back against her attackers, but her attempts were hopeless. From somewhere, she heard someone scream, "Stop it, you're going to kill her!" She felt relief surge through her body as her attacker removed himself; however, relief changed to fear, as she saw his blurred form looming above her again. She tried to focus on his face, but before she managed to she felt an excruciating pain as something hard came in contact with her head, causing her vision to go black once more.


	5. Chapter 5

**thank you to everyone who is reading, favoriting, alerting, and reviewing**

**I very much appreciate it  
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Alexander lifted himself off of Santana. He pulled his pants up, zipped them, and took his gun back. He turned and looked at the club.

"Well. That was satisfying," he laughed as he saw the looks of disgust cross the Glee Clubbers' faces. He laughed again when he heard Puck mumble something under his breath. "What was that Noah? Do you have something you'd like to share with us all? You know what happens if you do something I don't like, don't you?" He raised his gun and pointed it directly at Santana. "Boys," he addressed his fellows, "Pull hard!" Santana's limp form was yanked as hard as possible in five different directions. Alexander approached the unconscious girl. He lifted his leg and delivered a strong kick to Santana's left arm. The club heard a sickening crack as Santana's bone broke. Quinn gasped and hid her face in her hands. Seeing this, Alexander smiled and moved to Santana's side. He delivered a strong kick to her chest. He continued this until his actions were interrupted by someone shouting.

"Stop!" Finn screamed, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "You already broke her arm, you probably already broke a few ribs. Why the hell are you still doing that? Just leave her the hell alone!"

Alexander turned away from Santana. He made a quick motion to his men and they all dropped there ropes and went to stand in line with their leader. "Well, it seems like we still haven't gotten the message. It's not that hard to understand. If you talk, we hurt her; if you make a sound, we hurt her; if you move, we hurt her. What is so difficult about that? But, hey, if you want to keep going like this, I guess we can." Alexander looked at the men standing next to him. "Do any of you guys have an objection to that?" The six men shook there heads. As they did so, Alexander's smile grew. He looked completely deranged as he let out a howl of laughter. "Amazing!" He said quickly glancing behind him at the unconscious girl. "Well, unfortunately, it seems as if Santana has passed out on us again. Now, I'm not a monster. We can give her a short break before we continue." He looked back at the club, "But don't worry, that doesn't mean the fun is going to end. It just means we are going to have to turn our attentions to all of you for a moment. I mean you have accepted this dyke. You have loved her and allowed her to be part of your family. That makes you almost as bad as her!"

Alexander let out another cackle and raised his gun. He slowly pointed the gun at each of the Glee members faces, as if contemplating who to shoot first. His gun ended up pointed directly at Quinn. Quinn whimpered, beginning to cry. Alexander spoke "Quinn right? The Christian whore who got pregnant last year? You're a fucking disgrace Quinn. But at least you're not a dyke." He let out a laugh as he advanced on Quinn "But don't worry Quinn. You're not the only one who will be getting hurt today apart from your carpet munching friend. No we want to share the love! So before we continue with sweet _Sanny_ over there, we will show each and every one of you a great time!" and with that the men took off their masks and stepped forward, aiming their guns at the Glee Club. Each man had the same smile on his face.

As they looked at the barrels of the guns the Glee Clubbers knew this was going to be the end. They were all going to die.

"Now sweet Quinn you are first. Do you have anything to say? Any last minute declarations of love?" Alexander laughed as he continued to aim the gun directly at the silently crying Quinn.

From behind the men Santana stirred. She moaned slightly as she returned to consciousness. She tried to sit up but found it almost impossible to move. Instead, she settled on simply attempting to take in her surroundings. She looked up and saw Alexander pointing a gun at Quinn. She watched as her best friend stared up at her executioner, sobbing. With all the strength Santana still possessed she pushed her body slightly forward so her face was resting only millimeters away from Alexander's feet. Silently, praying that this wouldn't make him hurt her friends more, she opened her mouth and bit down on the back of Alexander's ankle.

"AAHHH! You stupid bitch" Alexander screamed as he turned around and aimed a kick right into Santana's chest, making her scream out in pain. The other men's smiles dropped from their faces as they turned toward Santana as well. Each of their guns was now aimed at her. Alexander was repeatedly kicking Santana while screaming at her. "We were being nice! We were giving you a break. And this is how you treat us. You bite me! You stupid bitch! I shouldn't have tried to cure you: I should have just killed you, I should have let you rot in hell!" And with this, he stopped kicking her, took his gun and pointed it directly at Santana's face.

All attention was now on Santana. It seemed as if these men weren't very good with things not going according to plan. They had wanted to kill everyone in the room, but Santana had interrupted that plan when she fought back and now they were getting sloppy, turning all of their backs on the club. They should have learned not to turn their backs on their victims after Santana bit Alexander's ankle, and yet it seemed to have the opposite effect. They had gone from being a well-organized group to being in complete shambles.

The Glee members took this opportunity to overpower their attackers. No one knew they were at the school no one was coming to save them, they knew they had to save themselves, and this was their one and only chance. All the members rose silently from their seats and began to advance on the men. Once they were close enough, the Club attacked. Finn, Joe, and Puck tackled Alexander to the ground and the other Glee Clubbers did the same to the other men. Quinn, Brittany, Tina, and Mercedes managed to take one man down, Mike, Kurt, Sam, and Blaine managed to overpower one man each, and Mr. Schue, with the help of Rory and Artie, took down the final man. As each man fell, their hands instinctively went out to brace their fall, and as they did so, their weapons went flying. Rachel went around the room picking these up handing them to her fellow Glee members. The students all stood there, guns in hand, each weapon pointing at the men now on the ground.

Mr. Schue ran to his office to get duct tape. When he returned, Puck took the gun he was holding and brought it really close to Alexander's face. "Get up," Puck snarled. Alexander didn't move. "I said get up!" Puck kicked him in the groin. Alexander doubled over in pain, and Puck pulled him to one of the chairs and bound and gagged the leader with duct tape. This process was repeated six more times, however none of the other men resisted. It seemed as if they all gave up once their leader had failed.

Once that was finished Rachel ran to call the police as Brittany went to Santana's side. Everyone else stood guard over the men to make sure that none of them attempted to escape.

After her last beating Santana had fallen unconscious once more, and no one knew if she'd ever wake up again. Brittany sobbed as she looked down at her girlfriend. She knelt beside her, discarding the gun she had been holding as she rushed to hold her. She bent down to the smaller girl. "Sanny. Sanny. I'm so sorry. Sanny, Rachel's gone to call the ambulance so you'll be ok, San. Just hold on, ok? Just hold on!" Brittany was sobbing as she leaned in and gently kissed Santana. She then lay down next to Santana, being careful not to move her at all, and placed her arm protectively over her beloved. Brittany remained like this, silently crying, as their friends continued to watch over the men.

The police arrived and took the men away while the EMT's tended to Santana. Brittany was still sobbing, holding Santana, refusing to let go no matter how hard the EMT's tried to persuade her. Finally, Quinn moved forward and leaned over in order to place her hand on the small of Brittany's back.

"Britt. You gotta let go. She's going to die if you don't. Come on." Slowly Brittany let go and allowed Quinn to wrap her arms around the taller blonde. Quinn rubbed circles on Brittany's back and attempted to calm her down. "Shh. Shh, baby. They're taking her now. They're going to help her. It's ok. Shh, it's ok."

As Brittany sobbed, the EMTs lifted Santana onto a stretcher and took her out of the room. Another EMT stayed behind to ask questions about Santana.

"What is her name?"

Rachel answered "Her name is Santana Lopez, She's 18 years old. She was raped and tortured for the better part of four hours. Please. You have to help her!"

"We'll do everything we can. Now is anyone else hurt?"

Mr. Schue stepped forward to explain how he had been hit in the head and had passed out. "Is that serious?" he asked.

"We better go to the hospital to check it out, just in case."

Before they walked out of the room, Tina remembered something. "Wait!" she cried. "There was a shot before the men entered the choir room. Is any…is anyone else hurt or de…de…" she couldn't bring herself to say the word, fearing that someone really was dead and that Santana would soon be next.

The EMT looked serious when she answered, "Yes, the janitor was in the hall. He did not survive. I'm sorry."

With that, she turned and escorted Mr. Schue out of the room leaving the Glee Club alone in a state of shock and despair at the news.


	6. Chapter 6

The students stood in the choir room allowing the sounds of Brittany's sobbing to fill the space. Sam reached out and rested his hand on Brittany's shoulder making her jump. "Brittany, I think we should go to the hospital. We can wait there so when she gets out of surgery, we'll know exactly how she is." Brittany nodded and removed herself from Quinn's embrace.

Quinn tried to smile encouragingly at her friend as she wiped away the tears from her face. "Come on. We should go call Santana's parents. The hospital will call them in a bit, but I think it would be nicer if they heard about this from us." Brittany replied with a faint nod, and together they left room.

Puck got into the driver's seat of his car. He tried to start the car, but his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't. He leaned his head down against the steering wheel and sobbed. She was his friend. Sure, they didn't show it very much, but he still cared about her deeply, and she had just been…abused…violated. It enraged him. He stayed like that until he heard a soft knocking on his window. He looked up to see Quinn outside his car. He rushed to wipe the tears out of his face as she opened the door.

"Hey," she said. Her voice was weak; he knew she was just barely holding it together. "Britt went with Kurt and Mercedes to call her parents. I…I was gunna go with them but I couldn't, I just couldn't. So here I am." She wheeled herself slightly toward the car waiting for Puck to give her permission to join him. Puck moved quickly. He put his arms around the small blonde, picked her up bridal style and pulled her onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, rested her head on his shoulder, and let the tears fall. "What's going to happen, Puck?" She let the childish question escape her lips as she let her guard down.

He hugged her tightly to his chest and stroked her hair. "I don't know. I just don't know. We have to go, though. We have to be there as soon as they have any information about her." He couldn't bring himself to say Santana's name. He knew if he did the tears would begin to fall again. "Go get Britt. I'll drive you two to the hos…" the word caught in his throat, "the hospital."

Quinn removed her arms and began to move herself back into her chair. Puck helped her, carefully placing her back in the seat, thinking about how close she had come to dying again today. If it hadn't been for Santana, Quinn probably would have died right then and there. God, Santana. As he thought about her a flood of emotion went through him again. He had always taken advantage of her, had never treated her properly. He never even gave her a proper compliment. Sure, he had told her often that she was hot, but he had never told her that he cared about her, that he knew she was a great person underneath all her snarky comments. Now he didn't know if he'd ever get the chance to tell her all the things he wanted to say. He started to cry again. He slammed his hands against the steering wheel causing the horn to sound. He didn't care. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to hurt those sorry sons of bitches who had hurt his friend.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Quinn still outside of his car. He took his hand off the horn so he could hear her.. He didn't bother to wipe the tears from his face this time. There was no point hiding it.

"Listen, Kurt just offered me and Britt a drive over to the hospital, and I just thought maybe you'd like to come with us? I know how close you and Santana are, and I know how upset you are right now. I really don't think you should be driving." Quinn held out her hand, which Puck grasped as he got out of the car and slammed the door closed. Together, they went over to where Brittany, Blaine, Mercedes, Sam and Kurt were standing waiting for them.

"Hey Puck," Blaine said in a false casual voice. Puck simply grunted in reply.

Sam went to Puck and gave him a quick hug before he and Mercedes walked away toward her car. Without a word, Brittany and Puck helped Quinn into the back of Kurt's car, as Blaine stowed the wheelchair in the trunk and got into the passenger's seat. They headed toward the hospital in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

When the car pulled into a space at the hospital Brittany rushed out. The others moved as quickly as they could to get Quinn out of the car and into her chair and soon joined their friend in the waiting room. Finding Brittany curled up in a ball and sobbing in the corner of the room, Quinn went directly to her. Kurt, Blaine, and Puck went over to the receptionist for information about Santana.

Just as Puck began yelling at the receptionist, Sam, Mercedes, Rory, Mike, Tina, and Artie arrived. Sam and Artie went over to try to calm Puck down. Mercedes went to try to comfort Brittany. Mike and Tina sat down next to Quinn. They all looked spent.

Kurt walked over to Quinn as Blaine tried to help Sam and Artie.

"Quinn. What's happening? Do we know anything yet?" he asked kindly.

"They won't tell us anything. We tried calling Santana's parents but they're in Puerto Rico for the month, so we couldn't get a hold of them." She nodded toward the desk, saying, "They say they will only give information to family members."

As Quinn had done earlier for Brittany, Tina placed her hand on Quinn's back slowly rubbing small, comforting circles. "Santana has other family in this area though doesn't she? Isn't there anyone else that we can call that can give the doctors permission to talk to us?" she asked.

Quinn shook her head. "The only other relative Santana has here is her Abuela, and she kicked Santana out!"

Kurt sat down on Quinn's other side and took her hands in his. "Quinn, we have to try. If we don't, Santana will be all alone. We won't be able to see her. Please just call her Abuela, try to at least get her to come down here long enough to sign some sort of consent form saying we're as good as family."

Quinn nodded as she removed one of her hands from Kurt's. She slowly wheeled over to Brittany and bent down. "Brittany, do you have Santana's Abuela's number in your phone still? I know you used to so you could contact her when she was over there. Do you still?"

Brittany nodded "San told me to delete it. She said I wouldn't need it anymore, but I couldn't figure out how." She reached into her pocket pulled out her phone and handed it to Quinn.

Quinn went to Brittany's contacts and found exactly what she was looking for. She hit send.

_Hello?_

Once Quinn heard the voice at the other end she got extremely nervous. This had to work. "Hello Mrs. Lopez. My name is Quinn, Quinn Fabray, I'm a friend of Santana's." She heard the woman at the other line mutter something in Spanish. Quinn became increasingly desperate. Her voice rose as she spoke into the phone, "Please just hear me out. Listen Santana's been in a major accident. She's hurt really badly, and they won't let us see her. Please, even if you don't want to see, her please just come down here and find out if, with your permission, we can. Please, we really don't want her to be alone when she gets out of surgery."

_Santana is a disgrace. I am no longer a part of that girl's life nor will I ever be again._ And with that, the phone hung up. Tears sprung to Quinn's eyes. How could anyone do something like that? Ignore Santana when she's seriously injured just because she's gay! Quinn hated that woman. She hated her almost as much as she hated the men who had put Santana in this hospital. She stormed up to the desk.

"Listen. My friend was admitted here in critical condition. No one will tell us anything because we're not family. But. I just got off the phone with her only family in the area. and she won't come. She wants nothing to do with Santana because she's a lesbian. We are not going to let our friend wake up in this hospital alone. We are not going to let you keep us from knowing how she's doing. Her parents are out of town. Her grandmother's a bitch, and we're all she's got. We are her family!"

The woman was shocked. Sure Puck had yelled at her before his friends dragged him off and calmed him down, but that had been nothing like this. She was used to that. Distressed friends screaming nonsense at her had become part of an average day, but that was not what this girl was doing. Quinn had a fierce fire in her eyes; the woman knew Quinn was not going to give up. "I'll go talk to someone"

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**I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/favorited/alerted my story. i know i'm not a writer and i know i'm garbage at this so it means a lot that people even read it. Also I have a bunch more chapters they just aren't edited really well yet. I was wondering if you'd prthe more chapters faster and deal with mistakes, or would you ratherwait for them to be edited more thoroughly? Or if you think my story is awful and I should give up and stop writing tell me that too. Sorry I'm a terrible writer.**


	8. Chapter 8

Quinn waited for the receptionist to return. It seemed like hours since the woman had told her she was going to talk to someone. Quinn needed this woman to come back with good news. She spun around when a door opened and someone said, "Who's here for Santana Lopez?"

"That's us," she said, racing toward him with the rest of the club.

"Hello, my name is Mr. Simmons; I am the hospital attorney. Lisa just told me of your predicament." He nodded toward the receptionist who had returned to her seat. "You see, we really aren't allowed to give out information to just anyone. But since Santana has no family in the area and we really do not feel comfortable waiting until her parents return and leaving her alone until then we are considering treating you as her family. We will tell you information about her condition and we will allow you to see her if you can give us proof that you really are the closest thing she has to family in the area. As long as you can provide us with that, along with a sufficient amount of security that this is what Santana would want, we will allow it."

Everyone turned to look at Brittany. If anyone could prove that they were Santana's family it was her. She let out a small squeak of fear, and Rory put his hand on her shoulder, providing her with the support she needed to begin to speak.

"Santana is my girlfriend, and these are our friends. We're in glee club together. We all fight a lot and we make fun of each other but at the end of the day we know that we can count on each other and that we are going to be friends forever." She pulled out her phone to show him pictures of Santana and her. One showed them hugging, another was of them laughing at Sam's terrible jokes, another of them ballroom dancing around the choir room together, and the last was of them kissing. She then showed him a picture that had been taken when the Glee club had reunited after Regionals. Everyone was smiling. Blaine had his arms around Kurt, Rachel was on Finn's shoulders, Sugar was sitting on Artie's lap, Mike and Tina were kissing, and Puck was flipping the camera off much to the displeasure of Mr. Schue. Rory, Sam, and Mercedes were all laughing at something and Quinn, Santana and Brittany were together making faces at the camera. After seeing the picture, no one could deny that this group was the closest thing Santana had to a family.

"All right. That's good enough," Mr. Simmons said. "Well, your friend is in critical condition. She's still in surgery and will probably remain there for quite some time. As of right now, she is alive. That is all the information we can disclose to you at this moment." With that he gave the students a small sad smile and left the room.

As of right now, she is alive. The words were ringing in the ears of each member of the club. They all returned to their seats slightly relieved that Santana had not died, but still terribly worried. The attorney's words made it seem as though it was still very likely that Santana would die. No one wanted to think about that; no one wanted to do much of anything. They simply sat there in silence, waiting for more news to come, and worrying all the while.

They sat there for hours. The only sounds were of crying and, every once in a while, someone calling their parents to tell them what was going on. Finally, at around 3 in the morning the door on the other side of the waiting room opened again. This time a doctor came out. He looked at the students thinking about what a long day they must have had, he felt so bad for them.

"Santana Lopez?"He said, and immediately twelve heads looked directly at him. He walked over to them and pulled up a chair. "Hello. My name is Dr. Howe. I just finished the first round of operations on your friend. She survived, but she's unconscious right now and we are going to begin the second round of surgery in a few hours. We just wanted to keep you updated."

"Can we see her?" Puck asked.

"Only a few of you can visit her right now. She's extremely weak and we don't want to take any chances. I'll allow three of you to go and stay with her, and the rest of you should really go home and get some sleep. It's been a long day and you need it." He got up and walked to the other side of the room. "She's in room 212," he added, before exiting the room, leaving them in silence once more.

Blaine found his voice first. "Well Britt, Quinn, Puck, will you keep us updated?"

Quinn was confused. "W—what?"

"You three are closest to her. We all care about her but if only three people can go it should be you guys."

Brittany, Quinn, and Puck hugged each of the other members of the Glee club and promised to inform them of anything that happened, and watched as their friends walked through the door at one side of the waiting room to the parking lot. Brittany, Quinn, and Puck went to find Santana's room.

Brittany was first to reach the door. She reached out her hand to grasp the doorknob but found herself unable to turn it. She wanted to race in; she wanted to hold her love, to whisper in Santana's ear that everything would be okay. But part of her, a part she wasn't so proud of, wanted to run. She was terrified of seeing Santana in there, so broken. The idea of seeing the Latina lying in the hospital bed injured so badly brought fresh tears to Brittany's eyes.

A kind hand on her shoulder pulled Brittany out of her paralyzed state. She turned around to see that the hand was Quinn's. The smaller blonde moved her hand from Brittany's back and grasped her hand. She smiled sadly up at Brittany.

"Do you want to spend some time alone with her first?" she asked. The part of Brittany that wanted to run away screamed 'no' inside her head, but Brittany ignored it. She knew she needed some time with Santana without Puck and Quinn watching, so she nodded to Quinn and turned back to the door. There was a level of intimacy that she could share only with Santana. No matter how scared she was, she needed it to be just the two of them when she did this. She opened the door, and stepped inside the dark room.

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**Thank you to ButterfingerBarsAreAwesome for editing this for me.**


	9. Chapter 9

As Brittany turned on the light and closed the door, she took a deep breath, willing herself to turn around and see her love. Slowly, very slowly, she did, and a strangled sob escaped her lips as her eyes fell upon Santana. She was lying in the bed with a tube, strapped in place, coming out of her mouth.  
She can't breathe on her own? Brittany thought, as she looked at the contraptions that were rhythmically inflating Santana's chest. Other tubes were attached to Santana as well: IV's transmitting different sorts of medicines into her blood stream, a heart monitor that was connected to a continually beeping machine, and worst of all was the IV that was connected to a bag of blood. Brittany's eyes were drawn to it as blood dripped down from the bag into the tube. The blood. All the blood that Santana had lost. All the blood that had pooled around her in that room. Brittany couldn't stop the tears from falling down her face as the memories came flooding back.  
The first shot. The cut the man made all down Santana's torso. The rape. Oh god, the rape. Why did those men do this to her? She didn't do anything wrong! All she did was learn to love herself and they tortured her because of it. Brittany fell to her knees, sobbing hysterically.  
"San!" She whimpered. "San, I love you. I'm so sorry. I should've stopped them! I love you so much, San. I am so sorry." Brittany curled up into a ball on the floor sobbing and repeating 'I love you' over and over again. She couldn't bring herself to move closer to her love, nor stand up and run away. She couldn't do anything. So she just lay there and cried.  
After what seemed like hours, the door opened again, and Brittany felt someone lean over and place a small hand on her back.  
"It's okay, Brittany. Everything is going to be okay. Just go and tell her how much you love her." Quinn helped Brittany to her feet, drawing her into a hug as she continued to speak. "Puck and I will be right here if you need us. Come on Britt, you can do this. Do it for her. Be strong for her."  
Finally, Brittany's sobs subsided and Quinn felt it was safe to detangle herself from Brittany's limbs. She waited for Brittany to raise her head before speaking.  
"Are you okay?" She asked, and Brittany nodded. Quinn continued, "Do you want to talk to Santana alone?" Brittany nodded for a second time. "Okay, well, Puck and I will be right outside. If you want us to come in just say so." Quinn planted a gentle kiss on Brittany's forehead before exiting the room.  
Brittany took a deep breath and, bracing herself for more emotional exertion, she turned back to where Santana lay. She willed herself not to start crying again as she walked over to the chair standing next to the bed.  
As she sat down she took Santana's hand in her own and kissed it lovingly. Tears began to well up in her eyes again. "I love you, Santana." She whispered.  
For a few minutes she sat in silence, simply rubbing her thumb back and forth over Santana's hand as she tried to put her thoughts into words.  
"Do you remember our first real date? You told me you had a surprise for me. You took me to that little park on the outskirts of town and brought me to the bridge over the pond. You brought bread so we could feed the ducks. When we were on that bridge you told me that you wanted everything to be perfect for our first date because I deserved it, because I'm perfect to you. Well, San, I want you to know that that date was perfect, but not because of the pond or the flowers, or the fact that you picked the nicest day of the summer for us to go. It was perfect because I was with you. I don't care where I am, or what I'm doing as long as I'm with you. I love you Santana. I love how when you sing, your face lights up with happiness. I love how you let your guard down when you're around me; you don't act all tough and mean. You just act like yourself. I love how you help me, and listen to me, and never talk down to me like lots of other people do. I love that no matter what you're always there for me and I know that if I have a bad day I can run into your arms and feel safe. I love everything about you, Santana, and I can't imagine a world where I don't see your beautiful face every day. So I need you to wake up because I plan to spend the rest of my life with you and I can't do that if you don't wake up!"  
Brittany grasped Santana's hand tightly in both of her own, trying to convey the love she felt for the Latina. Tears began to fall down her face once more, and she lowered her head so it was resting on top of their intertwined hands and she cried. So many thoughts were spinning through her head. She couldn't decipher one from the other; all she knew was that they were all of Santana.  
Brittany jumped as she heard a quiet knock on the door. She tried to say something to let Quinn and Puck know that it was all right to come in but the words wouldn't come out. Tentatively, the door opened, and Quinn and Puck stuck their heads into the room.  
"Britt?" Quinn said. "Is it okay if we come in?"  
Brittany nodded and Quinn and Puck entered the room. Quinn's eyes filled with tears as she looked at Santana, her eyes raking Santana's motionless form as if she had been told to memorize exactly what she looked like. Puck, on the other hand, turned away. He brought his hand up to rub away the tears in his eyes but not before Brittany saw a few fall down his face. Quinn's hand rested on Puck's back, encouraging him to move forward into the room. Quinn moved close to the bed, reaching out to place her hand upon Santana's immobilized arm, while Puck stood behind her, tears now running freely down his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell the two blondes that everything would be okay, but he couldn't seem to find the words.  
They remained at Santana's bedside as the minutes went by, staring down at her. Every time they heard a beep their hearts would race, hoping that something had changed for the better, but also fearing that the sound signified a worsening of Santana's condition. After a while, Quinn's head was drooped over the arm of her chair, and Brittany had curled up into a little ball, still clutching Santana's hand. This left Puck awake, and now nothing could distract him from all the thoughts that had been racing around inside his head since that first gunshot went off. Everything he and Santana had been through together. Everything she had done for him. Everything he should have done for her. All starting with the first day they had met.

_It was Noah's very first day of kindergarten. He was so excited that he woke up extra early just to make sure his Mohawk was perfectly straight. It was on his way to school that he first met Santana.  
"Hi," Noah said as he sped up to walk next to her. "Are you going to kindergarten too?"  
"Yeah," came the short reply.  
"Where are your mommy and daddy? My mommy is at home. She said she was too tired and I should just walk to school on my own."  
"My parents are busy."  
"Oh… okay."  
They walked the rest of the way to school in silence.  
Noah very quickly realized that school wasn't going to be exactly what he had imagined. It seemed as though all the other boys had gone to preschool together and weren't looking for any friends other than each other, thus leaving Noah the outcast. At recess he sat alone on one of the swings, head down thinking about what a disappointment kindergarten was turning out to be, until his thoughts were interrupted by a small "hello," and he looked up to see Santana standing in front of him.  
"Hi," he said back before lowering his head once more.  
"What's wrong?" She asked.  
"Nothing," he lied.  
"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't talk to you much on the way to school. I was just nervous. Big day and all. I'm Santana by the way."  
"Noah Puckerman."  
"Nice to meet you, Puck."  
"Puck?" He asked, confused.  
"Yeah. When people are friends they give each other nicknames. So I'm going to call you Puck."  
"Oh, okay." Puck smiled up at his new friend. "Wanna swing with me?"  
Santana sat down beside him. "You know, you aren't going very high. I bet I could go higher than you."  
"No way."  
For a while they tried to swing as high as they possibly could, laughing together, until a newcomer interrupted their innocent fun. His name was Billy, and he already had a reputation for being the biggest, meanest kid in kindergarten.  
"Hey!" He said making Santana and Puck stop swinging and look over at him. "What do you think you're doing?"  
His question was targeted at Santana but Puck answered. "Swinging," he said.  
"I wasn't talking to you, Jew-boy," He sneered, before turning back to Santana. "Why are you hanging out with this loser?"  
Santana stood and walked right up to Billy. "He's my friend. You got a problem with that?"  
"Yeah, I do." He pushed Santana out of the way and walked directly up to Puck. "We don't want you here. Leave."  
"I can't. School doesn't end until 3:30."  
That made Billy mad. He pushed Puck over so he fell off the swing, and started kicking him as hard as he possibly could. He continued until Santana yelled from behind him. "What are you doing?"  
Billy turned to face her and shrugged. "He's a loser. What does it matter?"  
"He's my friend and he matters to me!"  
"Shut up, stupid girl. You don't know nothing," Billy said, as he turned to continue beating Puck, but before he could land another kick, Santana jumped onto his back. She latched her legs around his waist and started pulling his hair.  
"I AM NOT STUPID. YOU BETTER GO AND LEAVE US ALONE RIGHT NOW!" When Billy started to cry Santana removed herself from him and allowed him to run away. She then went over to Puck. "Are you okay?" She asked.  
"I—I think so," Puck said. "Thanks."  
"Hey, you're my friend. No one will ever pick on you again."  
That was the day that Santana and Puck learned that the only way not to get bullied was to be the bigger bully. Since that day they were best friends, sending the fear of God through their classmates every time they entered a room.  
When high school arrived, they dated off and on, but neither person was really into it; they'd been friends for so long that anything more in their relationship didn't feel right. Santana was the person Puck went crying to when he found out Quinn was pregnant, and Puck was the first person Santana told when she realized she was in love with Brittany. They had always looked out for each other, kept each other safe. Until now._

Puck looked down at his best friend and couldn't help but think that he could have done something to stop this from happening. He walked over to the bed and bent down so that his lips grazed the Latina's forehead.  
"I'm sorry. I love you, 'Tana. I should've taken those bullets for you," he murmured. Before leaving her bedside he tucked her hair behind her ears, smiling as he noticed that, even after everything that had happened, Santana was still gorgeous. More to himself than to Santana he whispered, "You know, 'Tana, if everyone didn't already know that you're totally whipped you'd have to fight to keep all the girls off you. Hell, you'd have to fight to keep everyone off you." With that he squeezed her hand and retreated to a chair in the far corner of the room, where he would hopefully be able to get some sleep.

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Thank you to ButterfingerBarsAreAwesome i can't edit at all so without her help i would be hopeless.

Also a huge thank you to SuperBlueGirl12 who has given me alot of advice.

Read their stories. favorite them. support them. They're talented people. They deserve to be recognized for it.


	10. Chapter 10

It seemed as if he had only just managed to fall asleep when Puck was woken from his slumber by a loud rapping on the door. Drearily, he hoisted himself out of his seat and walked to the door, where a team of nurses was awaiting him.  
"Good morning, Mr.—?"  
"Puck," he supplied.  
"Mr. Puck, we're here to get Ms. Lopez prepped for surgery."  
"Oh. Okay. How much more work do they have to do?"  
"Well, they did all of the emergency situation stuff last night. Today they are just hoping to set some minor things. Basically, Dr. Howe couldn't do everything yesterday because of Santana's weak condition. He was afraid that keeping her under anesthesia for that long would do more harm than good. Therefore, for some of her more minor ailments, we simply made sure that they wouldn't get any worse overnight, but now we have to go in and perform procedures to fix the problems and help her begin the healing process."  
"Thank you for that."  
"Oh, and Mr. Puck, are you her boyfriend?"  
Puck looked at her questioningly, confused.  
"Fiancé? Husband? You two look a little young to be married," she continued.  
Puck laughed. "No, I'm just one of her best friends. Her girlfriend—" he put particular stress on the word— "is sitting right over there." He pointed to Brittany. "Why do you ask?"  
"Oh, it's just that during the surgery today we will have to remove the left breast implant because of severe damaging, and since she has no family here at this time, we figured it would be best to tell the person she is most intimate with. That way when Ms. Lopez wakes up, and she is startled by her…ahem…asymmetrical form, there will be someone around who can calm her down." The nurse looked slightly uncomfortable about having to deliver this information to Puck after learning that he was not the person Santana was intimate with.  
Puck only laughed. "Oh. Well, thank you; I'll inform Brittany. Although I don't really think that Santana's boobs are the biggest of her problems at the moment." The smile faded from his face, replaced by a serious frown. "Is there any chance someone can tell us exactly what's going on with her?"  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Puck, but due to the fact that you are not family—"  
Puck cut her off, his eyes failing to meet her gaze as he deflated. "Yeah, I understand." Then, more to himself than the nurse in front of him, he added, "We've been more of a family to her than her parents have. She barely even spends any time at home anymore. It's their fault she used to sleep around. She needed to feel like someone cared about her because they never seemed to."  
The nurse looked uncomfortable at his last statement; not knowing exactly what to say, she cleared her throat. "Well, I think Ms. Lopez is about ready, so we'll be out of here now and we'll bring her back as soon as possible."  
Puck had been focusing so much on the nurse in front of him that he had completely forgotten about the team she had entered with. They were getting ready to wheel Santana out of the room on a bed when he said, "Wait. Can we just say goodbye? Just in case?"  
The nurse gave him a knowing look as he went to wake Quinn and Brittany. He quickly explained to them what was happening and together they went to where the nurses were waiting with Santana.  
Both Quinn and Puck moved to kiss Santana's forehead, tears streaming silently down their faces. Brittany let out a sob as she threw herself at her love, passionately taking Santana's lips in her own for what she hoped would not be their final kiss, unmindful of the others in the room.  
When she felt Quinn's hand rubbing circles on her back she knew she had to let go. She squeezed Santana's hand tightly and whispered in her ear, "I love you, please come back to me," before turning away and allowing Quinn to hold her as she sobbed. Together the three friends stood in the room as Santana was wheeled out. Once the sound of the nurses had left the hallway, everything was silent once more; all they could do now was sit and wait and worry.  
Puck excused himself to go and call the other glee members, and this left Quinn and Brittany alone in Santana's room, sitting on either side of the empty bed. Brittany's eyes were focused on the place Santana had been, her hand outstretched as if trying to continue holding the Latina. Quinn reached across the bed and grabbed Brittany's hand in her own. "It'll be okay, Britt. Santana's going to get through this."  
Tears slowly began running down Brittany's face again. It seemed like every time in the past two days that she had managed to stop the crying something came up and she started again. All this emotion was exhausting. "I just don't understand why this happened, Q. I mean, why do they hate her so much? She's amazing. I know everyone thinks she's a bitch but she's so sweet."  
"Oh, Britt. They didn't do this because of Santana's attitude, you know that. They did this because—because she's gay, baby." Tears began forming in Quinn's eyes. "They wanted to punish her because they think it's wrong that she's in love with you." As Brittany started crying harder, Quinn moved around the bed so she could sit closer to her friend. "Britt-Britt, they got caught. They're never going to do anything like this ever again. I promise."  
"It's—it's my fault she's in here."  
"What?" Quinn was astonished by this. "No, no, baby, why do you think it's your fault?"  
"You—you said they hurt her because she loves me. It's my fault."  
"Brittany. Britt, look at me." Quinn waited until the tear-filled blue eyes met her own hazel ones. "Listen to me, okay? Nothing about this is your fault. Santana would love you even if you didn't love her back. Nothing could change how she feels about you. Do you remember, when you two were barely speaking, after you had that fight?" Brittany nodded. "The reason she was so upset was because even after you chose Artie she still couldn't stop loving you. She couldn't make her feelings for you go away. Santana is a lesbian; she's accepted that, she knows that she wants to be with a girl for the rest of her life. If that girl wasn't you, it would be another girl. Anyway, you did not cause her to get attacked."  
Brittany sniffled and wiped her eyes as she looked back up at Quinn. "Promise?"  
Quinn smiled; she couldn't help it. Brittany looked so innocent at that moment, so perfect. Even when she was so sad, it made Quinn happy that even after everything that had happened Brittany hadn't lost her innocence. Quinn just hoped that wouldn't change.  
"I promise." Quinn whispered, but still worrying about both Santana and Brittany.


	11. Chapter 11

Sebastian was running late. He was supposed to be meeting his date at Breadstix at eight, and yet, here he was, at five till, still standing in front of the mirror. He felt like an idiot. He was nervous, actually nervous about a date. That did not happen to Sebastian Smythe.  
He took one last look at himself in the mirror. Okay, he thought, I got this. I'm Sebastian Freaking Smythe, any guy would be lucky to go on a date with me. Sebastian took a deep breath and walked out of his room.  
As he made his way downstairs, Sebastian heard his father's voice coming from his study. At first he took no notice of it; it wasn't exactly odd for his father to be sitting in his study on a work call, but just as he was about to walk right by, he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.

His father's voice was muffled, so Sebastian couldn't make out every word he said, however he did hear one thing quite clearly: "Santana Lopez." Why, he thought, is my father talking to someone about Santana? There's no way she would have done anything bad enough that would result in a state attorney as important as my father getting involved. So why did he say her name?

Sebastian moved closer to the door, so that his ear was actually pressed against the wood.

"Okay, so tell me again what happened," Sebastian heard his father say. "These men got into the school knowing the club would be there and attacked this girl, Santana Lopez? Why?"  
There was a pause as the other person answered.

"That's what they said?" Another pause, while Mr. Smythe listened to the man on the other end of the line. "I don't know, Jerry. That doesn't seem to work. It doesn't make any sense."

Another pause, and then Sebastian heard his father sigh. He could picture the man sitting there in his office, running his hand through his short graying hair. "Because, Jerry, you said that they attacked Santana because she's a lesbian. But that doesn't make sense since you just told me that her girlfriend is also in that glee club. Why attack one and not the other? And what about the other gay couple?" He paused again.

"Yes, I know you told me that they were planning on killing all of them, but that doesn't make sense either. You just said that everything they did to Santana was painstakingly planned out. As though everything, right down to the words they said had been practiced over and over. And yet, the second they turned to the club everything went to hell. Those two things just don't go together."

Another pause. Sebastian listened quietly, confused.

"Jerry, what I'm saying is that someone is playing with this Santana girl. Someone sent these men to take the first shot, to weaken her, but these men were never intended to kill her. They are throw aways, Jerry. Whoever our mastermind is obviously didn't care about losing them. If he did he obviously would have chosen people who wouldn't mess up, people who wouldn't get caught. No, he chose these men as a warning. He chose them to say 'pay attention this is the first of a very long attack'."

Sebastian heard a long pause after these words. No doubt Jerry, the person on the end of the line, was trying to understand everything that he had just been told.  
Finally, Sebastian's father spoke again. "No, Jerry, Santana Lopez is far from being safe."

Sebastian leaned against the door as the weight of what he just heard sunk in. Santana in danger, attacked, injured? So many things were spinning through his head. He needed to figure out what was going on, and he needed to warn the glee club about everything he had just heard. But first he really needed to get to Breadstix and explain why he was so late.

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Ok. I know this chapter is really short. It's a filler chapter i guess. i'm going to update more frequently. and hopefully it will be interesting.

usual shout out to ButterfingerBarsAreAwesome and SuperBlueGirl12

if you have any advice for my fic please tell me. i seriously want to improve


	12. Chapter 12

Sebastian swore under his breath as he pulled into the Breadstix parking lot. He was almost an hour late now, and he was terrified his date would have left thinking Sebastian had ditched him.

Sebastian had been thinking about this date for a long time. He had already screwed up with the guy once and he was really hoping this date, his second chance, would go perfectly. He had thought about everything, from how he would ask the guy out to what he would eat to what he would wear; every detail was planned. But now he would be lucky if he even got a chance to say hello, let alone explain why he was so late.  
So much for being the perfect Sebastian Smythe he always pretended to be.

So consumed in his own thoughts, Sebastian didn't notice the door opening in front of him until his face collided with it. Swearing loudly, he stepped back clutching his bleeding nose. It was only when he heard someone speak that Sebastian noticed that the person who had opened the door was still there.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to… Sebastian?"

Sebastian opened his eyes and looked up into the confused face of David Karofsky. "Hi," he managed while clutching his still bleeding nose.

"I thought…" Karofsky began.

"I know. I'm sorry. Can we go inside?" Sebastian asked, motioning to the door. "I'd really like to explain."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Karofsky answered, still looking thoroughly confused.

They entered the restaurant, and Sebastian stepped forward to the thoroughly shocked hostess and asked for a table in the most secluded section of the restaurant. The hostess raised her eyebrow, but Sebastian couldn't muster the energy to care. He needed to explain, and to do so, he needed to ensure that they wouldn't be overheard.

The hostess brought them to a booth at the farthest corner of the restaurant, at least three tables away from any of the other patrons. Sebastian thanked her as he and Karofsky slid into the booth, and quickly grabbed some napkins and started attempting to clean up the bloody mess of his face. Across from him, Karofsky sat quietly, his hands fidgeting on the table as he stared down into his lap.

After a few uncomfortable minutes Karofsky spoke. "I thought… I thought it had all been a joke." He took a deep breath after he said it, as though the sentence had taken him a great deal of effort. "I thought it was like that time at the bar. When you told me I didn't have a chance with you. I thought you were taking the joke one step further."

Sebastian, who had been in the middle of pushing the napkin into his nostrils in the hopes of stopping the bleeding, stopped what he was doing and looked at the boy sitting across from him. He slowly reached across the table to grab Karofsky's hand, noting as he did so that the gesture was lacking in romance since his had was covered in blood. Still, the gesture seemed to have worked well enough, because Karofsky looked up to meet Sebastian's eyes.

"What I did to you," Sebastian began, "was awful. The things I said were terrible. I didn't mean them when I said them. You came over and you caught me off guard. You were so forthright; I didn't know how to respond. I mean, there you were, tall, attractive, and confident I fell for you the second I saw you. But you weren't supposed to pursue me. My confidence is all in my ability to pursue what I want, to smile at whoever I want and have them fall for me in seconds. I don't jump at the chance to have a date like some eager puppy. When you came up to me, I felt threatened, so I did the only thing I could think of to gain back the dominance I thought I had lost. I picked on you and made fun of you because I thought it made me better than you. I thought it helped me gain back whatever I had lost the second you came up to me and started flirting." Sebastian paused for a moment and sighed. "I'm so sorry, Dave. I should have jumped at the chance to have a date with you, but instead I panicked and screwed everything up. Please forgive me and give me a second chance?"

Sebastian retracted his hand and dropped his gaze. He wanted Karofsky to know he was serious about wanting to be on this date, he wanted Karofsky to know he was seriously sorry about messing up so badly, and he wanted, above all, to show that whether this date continued or not, whether this relationship had a chance or not, it was all in Dave Karofsky's control. He, Sebastian Smythe, had completely given up his dominance.  
After a few moments Sebastian heard Karofsky sigh deeply. He thought now would be a safe time to look up, and as he did so he was met with warm eyes. This gave Sebastian the tiniest bode of confidence, resulting in the corners of his mouth turning up in a nervous smile.

"So," Karofsky said, "shall we order?"

Sebastian's face split into a giant grin. "I swear you won't regret giving me a third chance," he said as he reached toward the middle of the table to grab a menu.

* * *

After ordering their food, the tension of moments before was completely forgotten and Karofsky and Sebastian began to talk. Sebastian talked about the Warblers and lacrosse, Karofsky about football and the anti bullying club he started at his new school. As Karofsky talked something clicked in Sebastian's mind.

"You and Santana Lopez had an anti-bullying club at McKinley, didn't you?" he asked, cutting Karofsky off mid sentence.

"Um, yeah," Karofsky said, looking slightly confused. "Why do you…"

Again Sebastian cut him off. "Are you two friends?"

"Me and Santana?"

Sebastian nodded, a look of determination on his face.

"Uh, yeah," Karofsky said, still looking completely bewildered. "We pretended to date last year, so we got pretty close, I guess. Not friends, but close acquaintances. Then this year after…" Karofsky cleared his throat. "After everything happened, she visited me in the hospital. She told me she was sorry, and said she should have treated me better." Karofsky smiled at the memory. "She brought me one of those edible arrangements. You know, the fruit arrangements that are all cut to make it look like they're flowers?"

Karofsky paused for a moment waiting to see if Sebastian knew what he was talking about. Sebastian nodded and Karofsky continued. "Yeah, well, she brought me one of those. She also brought Call of Duty. She whooped my ass in that game." Karofsky's smile became even wider. "Anyway," he said, bringing himself back to his original thought, "we became pretty close after that. We hung out at least once a week, I'd say. We played video games—she always won—, we watched movies—she always picked—, and we talked. You wouldn't expect it with how she acts, but she's actually a great friend. She tells me about her life, I tell her about mine. Actually, I called her a few days ago," Karofsky face changed to looking thoughtful. "Told her I had a date. She told me not to screw it up and if the guy hurt me that she'd go all Lima Heights on his ass." Karofsky chuckled at this. "She also told me to call her today, to tell her what I was planning on wearing. Said she had to approve it and make sure I wasn't going to wear a gorilla suit again." Karofsky laughed again. Then his face changed back to thoughtful as he said, "I called but she didn't pick up, never called me back. She was probably busy or something," he said, shrugging, "I'm sure she'll call me tomorrow. Anyway," Karofsky said with an air of someone who was pulling himself back to the present. "Why do you ask?"

Now Sebastian was uncomfortable. He had known Karofsky and Santana were friends, and he had made up his mind to tell the larger boy about what he had overheard his father saying, but now that he was actually faced with doing just that he had no idea how to get the words out.

He sat there for a few moments, mouth hanging open stupidly, before he finally managed to get his brain to form a passable sentence. "I—" he began; the short word was drawn out as though part of Sebastian was still debating whether or not to finish the sentence. "I overheard my dad talking today." Sebastian paused again. "He was talking about Santana."

To Sebastian's surprise, Karofsky laughed at this. "Your dad's a state attorney, right?" he asked in between chortles. Sebastian nodded.

"What trouble has Santana gotten herself into now?"

Suddenly Sebastian understood. Karofsky thought this was just another case of Santana being Santana, her big mouth getting her into trouble. The larger boy didn't realize what he actually had meant by the sentence. "I…no…" He began again. "No, Santana isn't the problem." He hesitated. "She's the victim."

That wiped the smile off of Karofsky's face. "What do you mean?" he asked, his words coming out in a harsh growl.

Deciding it would be easiest to start at the beginning of the story, Sebastian began to speak again. "When I was coming to meet you here, I walked past my dad's study. As I did so, I overheard him saying Santana's name, so I stopped to listen. Apparently, from what I gathered, she was attacked pretty badly."

"Who did it?" This growl from Karofsky sounded more dangerous than the first and Sebastian knew he had to get to the point quickly before Karofsky tried to kill the men who hurt Santana on his own.

"Well, that's the thing," Sebastian said. "These men attacked her but my dad said it doesn't make sense. They attacked her because she was gay, or at least that's what they said. But there are four gay members in that club, why attack just Santana? My dad thinks they were sent by someone else. He said," Sebastian screwed up his face trying to remember the exact words his father had used, "he said, that everything they did was perfectly planned, meticulously planned until they turned away from Santana. Then everything went to hell. He thinks that they were given instructions, that they got caught up in the moment and tried to attack the club on their own. He thinks that it wasn't part of the original plan."

"Why does that mean someone else sent them?" Karofsky asked, his hands balled into fists so tight that his knuckles had turned white. "Couldn't they have just gotten overexcited?"

"Yeah, they could have, except for the fact that the entire time they were focused on Santana they didn't show any sort of emotion. Everything was planned. They didn't have to think at all. They just had to say their scripted lines and do their scripted actions. The second they acted on their own they fell apart. They all turned toward the club and they all turned toward Santana when she tried to save her friends. It doesn't make sense. If these people are the masterminds they appeared to be at first, that they wouldn't know how to control a situation the second something changed. That means that most likely someone had told them exactly what to do, someone had told them how to deal with certain situations. When they went off book everything fell apart." Sebastian sighed. "…at least, that's what my dad thinks."

"So Santana's still in danger?" The question was asked so quietly that Sebastian only barely made it out.

"If my dad is correct, which I'm sure he is, then yes. Santana is in a lot of danger."  
Karofsky fell silent for a moment; he looked as though he was in deep thought. When he spoke again it was with a new sort of determination. "We need to be sure." As he said this he pounded his fist against the table, making his half full cup of water fall over. He ignored it as he continued, "Before we tell her friends and family we need to be sure. I don't want to make them panic over nothing. But we also have to be quick. We need to find out as much as we can, as fast as we can. Can you find out the names of the men who attacked Santana, as well as the prison they are being held at?"

"If my dad brought the files home, then yeah, I should be able to. When he's working on a big case sometimes he falls asleep in his study with the files still open as opposed to locked away in his briefcase, so there's a chance that I can find out, yeah."

"Okay, good," Karofsky said, his mind already a few steps ahead of Sebastian's. "Find that out and tomorrow we'll go and see them. If they're psychotic they will love to torture friends of Santana, and I honestly can't think of a way for them not to be psychotic. I mean, they didn't have a reason for attacking Santana, right?"  
"Not one that makes sense," Sebastian said.

"Good, then we have a chance of getting the information we need. If we don't figure this out by tomorrow, though, we should tell someone in New Directions to ensure that Santana is never alone, just as a precaution. No need to worry them, but we have to make sure Santana is safe." With these last words Karofsky stood up. He placed money on the table to pay for their dinners as well as the tip and then he turned to look right at Sebastian. "See you tomorrow," he said, before quickly exiting the restaurant.

_Well, it could have gone worse_, Sebastian thought as he got up more slowly than Karofsky. I guess I couldn't have expected it to go much better when I was telling him his best friend might die. With that thought in his head, Sebastian left the restaurant and went home.

* * *

thank you to anyone who's reading this story. I'm sorry if you don't like it. Suggestions and criticism is always welcome

as always thank you to SuperBlueGirl12 and ButterfingerBarsAreAwesome. look at their profiles, read their stories, they are much more talented then i am.

Real quick, anyone watching the Olympics? favorite teams? Favorite sports? My personal favorite is gymnastics. For some reason I just love watching it.


	13. Chapter 13

By the time Sebastian pulled into his driveway, all he wanted to do was go upstairs, curl up on his bed, and pretend as if the whole date had been just one bad dream. He wished he could wake up and find that he hadn't been late, hadn't had to beg for a third chance, and that the conversation hadn't centered on Santana Lopez. Hell, he wanted to wake up and find that the whole date just hadn't happened yet.

Unfortunately for Sebastian, this was impossible. He couldn't pretend as if nothing had happened because he had a job to do. He had to get that name so he could help Santana.

Sebastian laughed to himself at the thought. If Santana "Badass" Lopez knew that anyone was helping her, let alone the one person who might match her in the bitch department, she would go all Lima Heights. The thought of Santana spewing hateful Spanish at him for trying to assist her made Sebastian smile wider; in fact, he was so consumed in these thoughts that it wasn't until he reached his front door that he remembered exactly what waited for him on the other side. That was enough to wipe the smile off his face.

Slowly, Sebastian took the key out of his pocket and put it in the lock. Even more slowly he turned the key, dreading what he had to do next. Finally, with a deep breath, Sebastian turned to knob and entered his house.  
The house looked as it always did: clean and well cared for, and everything in its place, except for Sebastian's things. His school bag and books were dumped in an unceremonious heap next to his muddy shoes by the door, providing a harsh contrast to the otherwise stark white hallway, and his lacrosse equipment was strewn messily across the otherwise immaculate living room.

These small rebellions usually amused Sebastian. It was certainly funny to hear his mother scream, in an annoyingly high pitched voice, about the disgrace Sebastian was. He had always found it quite ironic that while his parents had accepted him being gay, his messiness was considered shameful.

However, on this occasion, Sebastian didn't even notice his mess, let alone find it amusing. His mind didn't even drift to his mother as he added his shoes and jacket to the pile in the hall, and in a numb, terrified state he moved down the hall toward his father's study.

He took a deep breath in as he reached the door, and put his ear up against it as he had done hours earlier. However, this time he was hoping to hear something much different on the other side of the door.

Luckily, his prediction from earlier had been correct, and he heard snores from inside the office. Sebastian let out the breath he had been holding since he entered the house as he slowly turned the knob and entered the room. As he did Sebastian noticed that the light on his father's desk was still on, and as he slowly crept toward the desk, he silently thanked his father for being so work obsessed.

When the top of the desk came into full view, Sebastian saw that many papers were scattered across it. He picked up the one closest to him and noticed that it had Santana's name on it. He began to read.  
Statement of Mr. William Schuester:

The Saturday practice was my idea. I wanted to get everyone psyched up so we'd really be competing at our best at Nationals. I had just entered the room when we heard a gun go off down the hall. I ran to the door, hoping to put some sort of barrier between my club and whoever was shooting. However, I wasn't quick enough. When I reached the door someone stronger than me was already at the other side. He pushed the door open and hit me across the face with his gun.

The next thing I remember was waking up on the floor. There were seven men in the room and someone was lying on the floor. At that moment I had no idea which member of the club had been hurt. My vision was still a little blurry; all I knew is that I had to do something. So I tackled one of the men and started punching him. I thought that I was helping, but then there was a loud bang and the man threw me off of him. He forced me to go and sit with my students. When I had done so, he explained that every time someone made any sort of movement or noise they would further hurt the person on the floor, who I could now see was Santana.

Brittany, Santana's girlfriend, let out a sob, and that caused one of the men to lean down and cut Santana deeply in the chest. The main man, whose name I believe was Alexander, said they couldn't shoot her every time because then all of this would go much too quickly.

By this point, Santana had fallen unconscious, so Alexander made Brittany clean and bandage her wounds. He also forced Brittany to give Santana a shot of adrenaline.

When Santana woke up, Alexander was standing over her. He said he wanted to help her. He said he was doing all of this because she was a lesbian and he had to help cure her. So he unzipped his pants and lay on top of her.  
The tears that Sebastian hadn't noticed forming as he read the detailed account began to spill out of his eyes. He didn't understand how this could have happened, how all of these horrible things could have been done to Santana in such a short amount of time. Unwillingly, a sob escaped his lips.

"Sebastian?"

The voice made Sebastian jump. He had been so consumed in his reading that he had failed to notice that the snoring in the room had stopped. He raised his eyes from the paper, only to have them meet another terrible sight: the angry eyes of his father.

* * *

Sorry it's not super long. i swear i'll get back to Santana soon and the chapters will start to get longer.

As always a huge thank you to the person who makes any of my writing even remotely possible to read ButterfingerBarsAreAwesome if you're like me and can't edit definitely ask her to beta read for you. also read her stories. she's great.

Also, as i've said before, go read anything written by SuperBlueGirl12 phenomenal writer.

everyone who reviews my story thank you! santanalopez4ever, ivypoison12, slavetoliterature, md09, dancelikeheya, darkangelsmind, finchel4eva, meech0831, indiearcade, and the people without accounts who read and reviewed my storie thank you all so much. if i missed anyone i am terribly sorry please let me know if i did and i'll give you an extra big shoutout next chapter.

slavetoliterature: i was rooting for the fab/fierce 5. Them and the Canadian team. both were outstanding teams and since i'm a citizen of both countries i do enjoy rooting for both teams.


	14. Chapter 14

"Hey Dad," Sebastian said with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Smythe asked, as he glanced down at the paper in Sebastian's hand, eyebrow raised.

"Ummm… I was doing homework and ran out of paper." Sebastian said, shrugging as he internally kicked himself for this pathetic excuse for a lie.

"Homework?"

"Yeah, I had a huge amount this weekend and I figured I'd get an early start but I didn't have any paper so I came down here to get some."

"Paper to use to write out your homework?"

"Yeah."

"Then why," Mr. Smythe began, "are you holding a paper already covered in writing?"

"It was dark; I couldn't see that it was written on."

"Sebastian," Mr. Smythe sighed, exasperated. "The light is on. Why don't you sit down and explain to me what exactly is going on here. You can start with why you are crying."

Sebastian raised his hand to his cheek to quickly wipe away the tears. Mr. Smythe's mouth curved slightly as he watched his son try to gain back some of his masculine bravado. It was so rare that he saw anything from Sebastian other than pompousness; this change was almost refreshing.

"Sit," Mr. Smythe said, returning his mouth to a straight line as he motioned to the chair opposite of him. "Now explain."

Sebastian searched around wildly for where to start. His father had just caught him crying over confidential police papers; this wasn't exactly an ordinary situation to be in. "Well…" he began. "I was heading out earlier tonight for a date…" He paused for a moment, wondering if his father would comment. It wasn't that Mr. Smythe didn't know his son was gay, it was just that whenever the two discussed Sebastian's love life it was always extremely uncomfortable. Sebastian's father had a knack for picking the weirdest questions to ask about a date. However, this time he didn't even ask who the date was.  
Sebastian cleared his throat before continuing, "I was walking by your office earlier. I wasn't trying to listen; I was running late so I was actually trying to get out of the house as quickly as possible." The words fell from Sebastian's mouth in a jumble, much different from his usual cocky drawl. "But, I heard you mention someone's name. Someone that I know…" Sebastian paused again looking up at his father for the first time since he had sat down. "I heard you mention Santana," he said, so quietly that Mr. Smythe had to strain to hear the words.

Mr. Smythe's breathe caught in his throat as he looked at his son, looking so vulnerable. The idea that Sebastian actually must care about this girl was enough to let Mr. Smythe know just how serious the situation was. Sebastian openly caring about another person just didn't happen. Mr. Smythe knew that this Santana situation must matter quite a great deal to his son, and he sat in silence contemplating this fact.

Sebastian, unable to stand the silence for long, began to speak again. "I listened at the door. I know I shouldn't have, but I heard you mention her name. She's sort of a friend of mine and I wanted to know what was going on with her, and I heard that she was in trouble, that she had gotten hurt and that you didn't think that whoever hurt her was done. Finding out that someone I know is hurt, and is going to be hurt more is awful, but Santana…" His voice trailed off. "You don't know her Dad; she's not like most people. She's—she's special. I can't exactly explain it, but when you meet her you don't forget her. Not only because she's incredibly beautiful, but also because she has a presence—this amazing presence…"

Sebastian wiped away a tear that had managed to escape from his eye. "Santana Lopez doesn't break," he said quietly. "When she gets hurt she stands right back up and hurts you ten times worse. I can't picture her broken Dad, I just can't. And I can't just sit around knowing that it's only going to get worse. I have to do something!" A rage filled Sebastian for a moment and he leapt up from his seat, but just as quickly as the anger had come, it left, leaving him completely defeated. His shoulders slumped, his head hung, and he fell back into his seat.

Mr. Smythe thought his son was done speaking, but after a few moments, Sebastian began again. "I went on my date. It was with Dave Karofsky. He's friends with Santana so I thought he'd help me figure out what to do, and he suggested that we figure out more before we tell her other friends. You know, just in case we're wrong and she's not actually in any danger, we don't want to freak them out over nothing. So Dave told me to find out as much as I could on her attackers, that way we could go and visit them in prison. It's dumb, I know, but—"

"No!" Mr. Smythe said loudly, causing Sebastian to jump and look up. "It's not stupid. It's brilliant!"

Sebastian looked questioningly at his father, causing the older man to elaborate: "From everything I've heard and read," he said, motioning to the many files littering his desk, "These men seem like complete and utter sociopaths. I can't find any reason as to why they would attack Santana. The whole gay thing doesn't make sense. There four gay kids in that club. So if it was actually about homosexuality they wouldn't have picked just her. And there is nothing else that connects these men to Santana. They could be hired professional guns, which I doubt seeing as they got caught, or they were chosen specifically because they just enjoy torturing other people."

Sebastian still looked confused. "Don't you see?" his father exclaimed. "They like torturing people. And had fun torturing Santana." Sebastian wrinkled his nose at these words. The idea of these men 'having fun' with Santana disgusted him. His father seemed not to notice his discomfort. "They'll probably be thrilled to talk to you, to tell you what they did. They might even tell you if it was just them or part of something bigger. Sebastian, you can find out if this is just a random act of violence or something bigger!" Mr. Smythe's face split into a huge grin. Sebastian tried to grin too, but it came off as more of a grimace. Mr. Smythe's smile faltered for a moment, "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Y—yeah, it is what I wanted… I mean, it is what I want. It's just… what happened. It's terrible."

Mr. Smythe got up and walked around his desk, and sat on the edge, looking down at his son. "Sebastian," he began, reaching his arm out to put it on Sebastian's shoulder. "I know this is hard."

Sebastian nodded, a fresh tear falling from his cheek as he stared into his lap. "But you said you wanted to do this. You said you wanted to help your friend," Mr. Smythe continued. Sebastian nodded again, reaching up to wipe the tear away.

"Sebastian," Mr. Smythe said again. Sebastian looked up at his father, who gave him a small smile before he spoke. "If this isn't what you want to do, I am not going to force you to do it. These people mess with your mind. It's what they like to do, so I'd understand completely if you didn't want to do this. I'm sure your friends would understand too."

"No!" Sebastian said, his words coming out louder than he expected. "I have to do this. I have to. I—I can't let her down. I just can't." The last words came out in a whisper. At that point Sebastian was talking more to himself than his father.  
Mr. Smythe cleared his throat to regain Sebastian's attention, Sebastian's eyes refocused on his father. "All right, well, if you're sure…" Sebastian nodded again.

"Then here." Mr. Smythe rummaged through the many papers behind him before he pulled out the correct one. He handed the paper over to Sebastian. "This has the prison they are being kept at along with all of their names. If I were you I would ask to visit with this one." He said pointing to the name 'Alexander' printed on the paper. "From what we gathered he was the leader of this group. He'd probably have the most information." Sebastian nodded again. "But remember, this man was the leader which means he also might be the hardest to get information out of. You are going to have to make him really want to talk to you." Sebastian nodded again and stood up.

"And Sebastian?" Sebastian was nearly at the door when his father's voice made him pause. "Remember, these men are still dangerous. Don't give away any personal information. If you can, give him a fake name and avoid letting him get a good look at your face. And above all just make sure to be careful."  
Sebastian turned to look back at his father. Mr. Smythe was wringing his hands in his lap, a sign that he was obviously nervous. Sebastian gave his dad a small smile. "Don't worry Dad. I have a plan." With that, Sebastian exited his father's office and went upstairs to bed.  
Before falling asleep Sebastian sent out two text messages. One he sent to Karofsky, telling him to come over tomorrow in the morning, and the other he sent to the one and only person Sebastian was sure could help him pull this off.  
Head full of plans and fears, Sebastian fell asleep.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who reads this story. i'm so grateful for each of you. butterfingerbarsareawesome as always a huge thanks to her. and superbluegirl12 for helping me out. thank you all.

Oh one last thing, who do you think Sebastian contacted? and how will that person help the situation. i want to know what you think.


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